On the balcony
by korpen
Summary: A small one-shot. Hermione contemplates her relationship with Ron and Harry and struggles with her own expectations, as well as others, on her as a grade A-student.


Her steps echoed up the stairs, she'd never been here before – at least she didn't think so. Wasn't that one of the things she loved with Hogwarts? That everything could be new, even if you were here for the third time or tenth; doors that came and went, just as the stairs that suddenly moved in mid-air. If you wanted to get lost, to be alone with your thoughts, Hogwarts was the perfect place. She just walked away from Ron and Harry and thought; maybe they noticed, maybe not. Sometimes Ron was such a log, no wait, _sometimes_ Ron was actually compassionate and attentive, but those rare moments didn't last long. Harry could be sweet, but his head was always somewhere else – now with the tournament closing in, she could see how his eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. He always seemed to be dragged in to adventures against his will, but sometimes Hermione wondered if he didn't unconsciously keep seeking drama. Any sane person with his background would stay within the safe walls of Hogwarts and keep away from unnecessary risks. Instead he played quidditch, went into the forbidden forest at night and now he'd compete in a tournament where people had been killed! That's why Dumbledore and the other schools agreed upon the age limit; how he actually got chosen was a mystery – she did believe him when he said he didn't apply on his own, but if someone actually had tampered with the process, wasn't it obvious that whoever it was, it was most likely that someone didn't want Harry to survive the tournament? But boys, they were so caught up with the competition and the possibility to be a hero.

But what about her? Didn't she actually want to be a hero to? Wasn't she just jealous of the boys, especially Harry? Sure, she knew most people knew who she was – the potential of being one of the smartest kids in school had some positive aspects, she was proud of what she accomplished, but maybe she would have been more assertive if she knew how to practice a tenth of her theoretical skills. Just the fact that Harry somehow got chosen in the tournament was enough for her to question how she actually would manage in the "real" world…funny thing was that ever since she was a little child, an unknowing muggle, she dreamed of going to school. And what a school she went to now! She couldn't have dreamed of better. But she never reflected about the purpose of all those exams, all that home work, what it all was good for? Sure, she could cite the school plan, the words of Dumbledore echoed in her head, but did she believe there was a bright future for her? All those high grades made the potential fall even higher, with every exam she became even more scared of falling.

Speaking of falling; she realized she'd reached the top of the stairs, walked across the room, walked out the door on the opposite side and ended up on a balcony, 20 feet up, the view of the lake and the mountains in the distant was breathtaking, but she was leaning against a broad, but low rail. And the drop was terrifying. Shivers went up her spine when she looked straight down; to think Harry would soar on his broom at these heights! She did like the idea of flying, but her fear of heights made it almost impossible to earn a higher grade with madame Hooch. There it was again, the doubt; when would she ever feel that she was good enough? The thought of leaping over the edge raced through her head, what if she would ultimately test her skills and break all rules and boundaries all at the same time? Maybe she would manage to stop her fall, in theory she knew how to up heave gravity long enough for her to casually stroll in mid-air across the yard down there and land on her feet in front of all the others who were just exiting through the main door on their way to class. But would she manage to actually make the spell work when her life was on the line? Or would she fail for a first and final time?

Class! If she was up here, and they were down there, on their way down to Hagrids lesson, that would mean she was late however fast she would take the stairs (even if they let her take the straight path and not lead her on through the endless halls and corridors). A sudden rush of energy surged through her, stress and something else, an excitement mixed with terror: what if she put it to the test? All that theory was there for a reason, she'd read about the spell, she knew how, now she could just once and for all put her money where her mouth was, live up to all those ideas; prove herself to herself and no one else. If she was as good as everyone else thought, then why not?

Heart pounding she leaned further out, looking at her classmates – not one of them saw her. If this didn't work, it would make a pretty terrifying ending. But it wouldn't be the end, would it? A couple of broken bones and a stay at madame Pomfrey, right? Her pulse throbbed at the temples, yet she stepped away, paused, took out her wand, closed her eyes, opened them again, took two steps and threw herself over the ledge. The air whirled through her hair and the ground rushed up against her. "Arresto momentum!" the spell worked, her body immediately slowed and gave her enough time to stretch her legs out and put her feet down. Adrenaline flowing, panting, she ran up and reached Harry and Ron at the end of the line forming on the way down to Hagrids house.  
"Hermione! I thought you were way ahead of us" Ron looked at her tangled hair and raised an eyebrow.  
"Maybe I am, Ron."


End file.
